


Built a broken heart, watch it fall apart

by strangenessandcharm



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Faux existentialism, M/M, Vague mentions of past Sungjong/Hoya, angel au, the most bastardised angel au ever written probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10427598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangenessandcharm/pseuds/strangenessandcharm
Summary: “Everything that has been created is created in the image of something that already exists,”“What was created in image and what was first. Here or life?”“Maybe they’re created in image of each other, an infinite paradox.”When he’d been alive Howon had never given much thought to the concept of life after death, never considered the possibility. That had been something of an oversight, seeing as there very clearly is one and he's very much stuck here for the next millennium.Except the longer Howon gets into his service (the longer he associates with Sungyeol) the more he realises the only difference between 'Heaven' and life is no one pretends life is pure.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Hoya day Ya'll. Hopefully if I continue this trend of writing Member Bday fics (which I want to) they get slightly shorter. And happier. Why are both these Bday stories the opposite of fluff?? Happy birthday have a story of you suffering. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> This is potentially the wankiest and definitely the strangest fic I have ever written I have no idea what's up with the style or why it ended up this way (Or why my Hoyeol always has the weirdest tone to it). 
> 
> This is kind of an angel/fallen angel au except I've basically bastardised every version of angel lore to ever exist and made everything up on the spot so my apologies for that? Also everyone's dead pre story so I don't think that requires a character death tag xD
> 
> This fic is based on the song Taking Off by One OK Rock as I'm sure the lyrics make abundantly clear. The title is also slightly tweaked version of a lyric from the english version :)
> 
> & I feel like it's worth pointing out this story takes me over 250,000 words published on AO3. In 10 months. Oops.

_I know I know_  
_We're taking off together_  
_Even though we always_  
_Crash and burn_

 

It’s been 199 years and 312 days.

Sometimes, Howon thinks that he must have imagined him. It’s an easy thing to think when no one says his name, when no one is allowed to say his name out of certainty they’ll meet the same fate as him.

Howon had know of course that Sungyeol had been unhappy with his afterlife, with his job, with doing what he was told and not asking questions. Everyone had known, Sungyeol hadn’t been subtle. Sungyeol had bordered on blasphemous but the superiors liked him. He was good at what he did even if he hated it.

Sungyeol was never going to meet the usual fate of those who questioned their orders. 

Howon had thought that the good would be enough. That he would be enough.

That the promise of the next life would be enough. Sungyeol only had 231 years on his contract, he was almost there. They were almost there.

It wasn’t enough.

Howon had 216 years and 27 days left on his contract when Sungyeol fell.

When Sungyeol chose to fall.

 

 

 

When he’d been alive Howon had never given much thought to the concept of life after death, never considered the possibility there was one.

He doesn’t remember anything about his death. Doesn’t know how old he was, how it happened. Doesn’t know who he left behind - if anyone. All he knows is he wakes up alone in a white room and just knows he’s not alive. Not anymore.

He doesn’t remember much about his life either, he’ll come to realise none of them do. He doesn’t even know if Howon was his name.

There are a few things he knows for sure though.

He knows had a boyfriend he loved very much (though he cannot remember his name or what he looked like) but nothing else going for him in life. He worked very hard for a very long time and got nothing in return until one day it suddenly paid off more than he ever could have imagined.

It wasn’t enough apparently. It couldn’t have been enough because he ended up here, instead of moving into the next life. He has to work for a millennium to keep the afterlife safe before he’s allowed to rest himself.

“An Angel,” the man, or angel, who greets him upon his ‘rebirth’ says with a wry grin, like it’s some kind of grand joke Howon might one day get to be in on.

 

 

 

The afterlife, or the strange in-between stage all angels live in to be more specific, is not that different to life Howon soon finds.

They don’t have to eat but they can, same with breathing. They can’t die but they can feel pain. Sleep is still necessary but only every couple of years. Time progresses as a blur, months are like days, like years, like everything in between.

It’s all so similar to life that it’s disconcerting. That Howon sometimes thinks he must be dreaming.

When Howon tells this to Dongwoo, his ‘guide to angel life’. Dongwoo laughs.

“Well, what else did you expect? Everything that has been created is created in the image of something that already exists,” Like that makes sense. Perhaps it does, if you have some abstract level of intelligence. Howon does not so it sounds like pure nonsense.

“What was created in image and what was first. Here or life?” Howon asks, not because he’s interested but to see if Dongwoo has thoughts on it.

Dongwoo shrugs, “Maybe they’re created in image of each other, an infinite paradox.”

Infinite Paradox. It’s a term that sticks with Howon throughout his service.

It sums up the situation nicely. Nothing here makes sense.

 

 

 

Sungyeol is Dongwoo’s next charge after Howon, once he’s deemed experienced enough to go about his duties without someone holding his hand.

Howon doesn’t meet him for almost a year.

When he does it’s not an important moment. Except it is.

Dongwoo introduces them in his living room, “Howon,” he says, bright smile in place, “Hi,”

“Haven’t seen you around in a while,” Howon says, making himself at home in the armchair and eyeing the lanky new angel at Dongwoo’s side warily.

“I’ve been busy,” Dongwoo says. Like Howon didn’t know that, “Whichreminds me, Howon meet Sungyeol.”

Howon smiles as best he can and greets the new angel.

He can’t concentrate because there’s a name, another name running around in his head. Ringing in his ears. Similar but so different.

A name in his head and a melancholy aching in his chest.

A reminder of what he’s lost.

(Sungjong).

 

 

 

Over the next few years Howon sees more of Sungyeol. They’re assigned to the same duties, general peacekeeping, because apparently neither of them are deemed suitable for a role like Dongwoo’s.

“It’s your eyebrows,” Sungyeol tells him one day, kicking a rock in front of his foot so it skips off ahead of them. Today their assignment has manifested as a steep cliffside, only a winding dirt path or murky grey clouds as far as the eye can see . The sun is beating down on their backs, hot and uncomfortable despite the fact there’s no danger of it burning them. Howon can’t bring himself to care too much.

At least they’re not at the bottom of a body of water like last week.

“What’s your problem then?” Howon bites back, hands in his pockets, “You’re generally contentious personality?”

“I think it’s my inability to sell this shit,” Sungyeol says, kicking another pebble. This one falls down the side of the cliff face, disappearing into the cloud cover below.

Sungyeol has made no secret of the fact he doesn’t want to be here. Howon wonders why he agreed (wonders what happens if you _don’t_ ).

“So instead we’re stuck as glorified policemen. If only those on earth knew that’s all angels were.” Sungyeol scoffs.

“I’d hardly say we’re policemen,” Howon scoffs in return, still bordering on blasphemous, spirit not yet broken down. Not aware that someone was always listening, “Not nearly as exciting as that. No one in the afterlife commits any crimes.”

That’s the issue you have when only good people get to move on. Good people don’t generally take pleasure in hurting others.

“Glorified waitstaff. Personal assistants,” Sungyeol says with a sigh even though that’s not their job. It’s a reminder though they could have ended up worse places (could get demoted worse places).

“I think I figured out why they didn’t give you Dongwoo’s job,” Howon says dryly, ignoring the way pine trees are starting to sprout up all around them, it had only taken him five years to get used to that.

“That’s what I already said,” Sungyeol rolls his eyes, slowing their already glacial pace until they stop, “Keep up Howon,”

“Sorry we can’t all be as smart as you,” Howon scoffs, trying not to smile as Sungyeol leans against the vast cliff face behind him. Then, he sighs, “It’s better than the alternative, at the very least.”

“Do you know what the alternative is?” Sungyeol asks, turning his eyes to Howon in what almost looks like excitement.

Howon shakes his head, “No. But there has to be a reason that we’re warned about it when we’re alive.”

Sungyeol doesn’t look like he believes it.

 

 

 

Woohyun is something of an oddity. Woohyun is one of the few who has completed his contract but chosen to stay rather than go on.

Howon doesn’t know him well enough to ask him why, isn’t sure he wants to know why.

As with anyone who made the choice to say there is no shortage of gossip about him. There’s only a handful of them, and Howon’s only met one. Sunggyu is his name and Dongwoo talks about him an awful lot. They’re close, somehow.

Most of them stay in important jobs, their skills deemed useful. Sunggyu is on the comittee that decides assignments if Dongwoo is to be believed. The entire panel that decides who gets offered a second change, who gets into the afterlife, is comprised of people that have served their terms twelve times over (Howon truly believes Sunggyu’s one passion in life is ending up on that panel).

Woohyun, on the other hand, is nothing more than Howon. A common enforcer. Gossip says it’s because he’s repenting for something that the panel doesn’t know about. Gossip says it’s because he’s in love with a new recruit. Gossip says a lot of things but Howon doesn’t listen. Only knows it because Sungyeol delights in sharing the ridiculous rumours he hears.

It take Howon forty years in this place to meet Woohyun, and when he finally does he’s not at all what Howon is expecting. He’s smaller for one, overwhelmingly charming in a way that means he’s probably be better suited to a job like Dongwoo’s.

He shoots Howon the brightest (fakest) smile he’s seen in a long time, sidling up to him as his mouth slips into a grin.

Howon is immediately suspicious.

“I’ve been waiting to meet you, Dongwoo’s been keeping you to himself,” Woohyun says with a bright laugh. It also sounds fake to Howon’s ears.

Dongwoo grins brightly, highlighting exactly how fake Woohyun’s smile is with the genuineness radiating out of his own.

“I’m not sure I’m worth waiting for,” Howon says, shaking his hand and stepping back beside Dongwoo.

Woohyun’s smile slips, into something slightly more genuine. Amused, “Oh Howon, if only you knew.”

 

 

 

_Sometimes he lies in bed and could swear he feels Sungyeol, lying on his back like he used to. Whispering in his ear._

_“Did you know” dream Sungyeol whispers, as his hands trace Howon’s shoulder blades where his wings would emerge if they had, “We spend the first 50 years after falling ferrying souls to the afterlife. For all you angels talk about protecting the newly dead, we’re the ones there for them when they’re at their most confused. Ironic isn’t it.”_

_Howon doesn’t respond. Doesn’t know whether to point out it doesn’t matter since no one remembers their passing anyway or concede. Doesn’t respond because it’s a dream and Sungyeol left him and he needs to remember that._

_“Howon, Hoya, darling,” Dream Sungyeol coos, lips brushing Howon’s ear, “Hurry up. He’s waiting for you.”_

_Then Sungyeol is gone._

_Howon jolts awake._

 

 

 

Howon sits on the edge of the manifested cliffs watching as his friends chase each other, laughing like children as the sun shines on their brightly coloured wings.

“You know,” Someone speaks up from beside Howon, “I’ve never seen your wings.”

Howon startles, trying not to fall off the cliff. Normally not a problem for angels, but a problem for him.

“No one has,” Howon turns his head to look at Sunggyu. He wonders what the occasion is, Sunggyu so rarely gracing any of them with his presence. He doesn’t ask.

“Not manifested yet?” Sunggyu asks as kindly as he can manage, standing behind Howon. He doesn’t sit.

They don’t start with wings but over the course of their service they’re supposed to manifest. Not white like the myths of earth would say, but colourful. Colours that represented something about you so people said(Howon thinks that might be as much of a myth as the white wings). It is true that everyone has bright wings, pastel or jewel tones. Howon’s never seen an angel with dark wings.

Howon shrugs in answer to Sunggyu’s question. It’s not any of Sunggyu’s business.

Sunggyu doesn’t push it, “To what do we owe the honour of your presence?” Howon asks sarcastically instead. He would rather ask than have to talk about wings.

It’s a valid question Sunggyu rarely spends time with any of them.

Sunggyu’s face sobers, “I need to talk to Woohyun,” he says.

He doesn't tell Howon what it’s about, he’s not that important, as Woohyun swoops over to them, grin falling of his face as soon as he looks at Sunggyu.

Howon has a bad feeling about it.

 

 

 

Howon comes across a young angel once, on his travels, her striking red hair catching his eye as he did his rounds.

She looks no older than 17 and scared, he wonders where her guide is (not all of them can be as good as Dongwoo) wonders how at what age people start getting judged or their morality when they die.

“Are you okay?” Howon asks her as he walks towards her, startling her so much she flinches and looks up at him before looking away shyly, “Anything I can help you with?” he prompts.

She wants to say something. She doesn’t.

Howon waits.

He doesn’t know why he’s waiting this girl out he just knows it’s important that he does.

“What is what’s good?” She eventually asks him quietly, she looks conflicted, “How do you chose between what’s good and what makes you happy.”

“If it doesn’t make you happy then it’s not good,” Howon tells her simply.

 

 

 

“What the fuck happened?” Sungyeol spits at Woohyun fire burning in his eyes. His fingers are gentle though, cool on Howon’s face as he wipes the blood away.

Howon hadn’t known that they could bleed. Hurt yes but not bleed.Yet here he is knife sticking out of his shoulder, blood dripping a sticky path down his chest. Maybe because the weapon was also a product of the afterlife it can cut his flesh, if he even has flesh anymore. He’ll have to ask Dongwoo. If he can remember.

“This is what your job is,” Woohyun explains with a sigh, though he keeps shooting Howon apologetic looks, “To keep the order. Which you did. Eventually.”

“People like that aren’t supposed to get into the afterlife,” Sungyeol hisses, inadvertently putting pressure on the knife and digging it further into Howon’s shoulder. He doesn’t flinch.

“They aren’t supposed to, but it happens,” Woohyun says calmly, like he’s regurgitating something he’s been told before.

“How?” Howon speaks up, curious despite the pain.

“We can only judge the living on the actions they take,” Dongwoo says from somewhere behind him. Howon hadn’t known he was in the room, “We can’t see what they think. What they dream.”

“That’s a bit of an oversight isn’t it,” Sungyeol says before pulling the knife out of Howon’s shoulder. He hisses in pain, fights the urge to swear.

He knows he can’t die again (He doesn’t think. At this point it wouldn’t surprise him to learn he could) but it still fucking hurts.

“Sorry,” Sungyeol apologise, rubbing gently over the wound and watching as the skin knits itself back together.

“A good person isn’t someone that has no impure thoughts, it’s someone who doesn’t act on them, who does good,” Dongwoo says. It’s the type of shit he’s usually spouting on a daily basis but for once, Howon thinks he doesn’t sound like he believes it. That’s a first.

“Right. Okay, good in theory,” Sungyeol says, draping himself over Howon’s shoulder now he’s done with his makeshift first aid, “But in practice we end up with guys like that skipping queue and getting straight into the afterlife whilst people like you have to do their service.”

“I’m a little bit offended that you guys considered him a ‘better’ person than me,” Howon says with a snort. It’s a joke, except it isn’t.

“It’s entirely arbitrary.” Sungyeol says airily, “It’s like bureaucracy on earth except worse because instead of not getting a loan or losing out on some scholarship it’s the rest of eternity.”

The three of them start at Sungyeol for very different reasons.

“Please be careful,” Dongwoo says imploringly whilst Howon simply shakes his head, used to Sungyeol after all this time.

“Everything mirrors everything Dongwoo, you said that,” Sungyeol says with a smile reminding Howon of a previous conversation he’s had with Dongwoo, “The good and the bad. It’s human nature after all, or angel nature.”

“Yeah,” Dongwoo says looking troubled.

 

 

 

It’s 234 years into his contract that Sungyeol first kisses him.

Their shift brings them to a meadow this time, sunlight dappled and like something Howon’s seen in a dream, in a movie. Burned into his mind from cultural coding.

Absently Howon wonders if the landscapes are a reflection of something or if they’re entirely random. It feels too pointed to be random a lot of the time. Maybe he’s projecting.

They finish their shift, uneventful as always, and by silent agreement don’t move on once it’s over.

Howon lies on his back, staring up at the clouds floating in the sky. Wonders absently where they are.

He knows heaven or the afterlife or wherever they are isn’t in the clouds, astronauts proved that. But that leaves the question where are they physically. If they physically are anywhere anymore.

Do they physically exist?

“You look like you’re thinking about something hard,” Sungyeol laughs, from where he’s sitting sprawled next to Howon, leaning on one arm.

“Just wondering about geography,” Howon says honestly.

He’s not surprised when Sungyeol laughs at him, one of those genuine body shaking laughs of his. He’s slightly more surprised when Sungyeol is suddenly hovering over him, still laughing.

He’s surprised when Sungyeol kisses him. He shouldn’t be. It feels familiar, like coming home.

 

(Howon dreams of Sungjong that night. Sungjong standing at the bottom of his bed watching him with appraising eyes. With a sad smile.

He meets Howon’s eyes, “I should have expected this. I guess I can’t fault you,” his smile turns more genuine. “Enjoy your happiness Howon,”

Then he’s gone.

Howon is left feeling decidedly unsettled. Chastised)

 

 

 

_Woohyun finds him less than a week after Sungyeol falls. He’s not hard to find, he’s sitting on a familiar cliff edge watching as some of the other angels chase each other through the sky._

_Howon’s tempted to just step off the edge of the cliff, accept his fate._

_“Howon,” Woohyun says, sitting down next to him so their shoulders are brushing, “Are you okay?”_

_It’s a stupid question. Howon doesn’t even know what okay is anymore._

_He had known of course that Sungyeol had been important to him, it was hard to miss._

_He hadn’t realised just how important until he’s gone. Until there’s no one to take his shifts with, until there’s no one in his ear voicing their discontent with the system, pointing out the hypocrisy. Howon notices it of course but it’s not the same._

_Sungyeol had come and opened up his eyes, made him question the place he resides in._

_Sungyeol had broken Howon, moulded him into some new shape. Some new shape in Sungyeol’s image. Everything really was in the image of something else Howon thinks bitterly._

_“I feel like half of me has fallen,” Howon confesses to Woohyun, at his most vulnerable._

_(He’ll spend years avoiding Woohyun, embarrassed that he allowed himself the moment of weakness)._

 

 

 

Time shifts erratically here.

The next four hundred years pass faster than his first century. His years are a blur of Woohyun and Dongwoo and laughter. Work and friendship.

Sungyeol and skin and warmth. Affection.

It’s too good, it feels like what the afterlife is supposed to feel like if the stories are true.

It’s too good to last.

 

 

 

They’re sitting on a beach this time, the four of them gathered around watching the imagined waves.

Woohyun is lying on his stomach, sopping wet wings spread out behind him from where Sungyeol had managed to drop him in the body of water (because it’s not the ocean - they’re not on earth so it can’t be the ocean) earlier. Sungyeol and Howon sit pressed side to side and Dongwoo looks like he’s napping though he does contribute a few words every now and then.

They’re been talking about who knows what, frivolous things as always. When you’ve known someone for hundreds of years but know nothing about your own history you get very good at making small talk about nothing important.

Eventually though, as it has taken to doing recently, the conversation turns serious.

“A bunch of new recruits were discussing the fallen yesterday,” Sungyeol says out of the blue.

Dongwoo cracks an eye open and Woohyun perks up, “What about them?” Woohyun asks suspicious.

“They were talking about why anyone would choose to fall,” Sungyeol says stiffly. He looks uncomfortable. Howon doesn’t know why he brought it up.

“What did they decide?” Howon asks carefully, clearly what Sungyeol is fishing for.

“That their king or queen or pharaoh or whatever is unnaturally beautiful,” Sungyeol says with a snort, “Helen of Troy.”

“Do you know who Helen of Troy was?” Woohyun scoffs sitting up, “That’s a terrible analogy.”

“It was theirs not mine,” Sungyeol shoots back, throwing a handful of sand at Woohyun. Woohyun is too far away though so it ends up landing across Dongwoo’s chest. Dongwoo glares.

The conversation is forgotten as Dongwoo and Sungyeol start a sand fight, Woohyun loudly complaining that the sand is going to be a nightmare to remove from his wet wings (Howon and Sungyeol exchange a look and tackle him into the sand at that).

Howon never finds out why Sungyeol brought it up.

 

 

 

“Your wings have manifested, haven’t they?” Sungyeol asks him one day, sliding a finger along Howon’s bare back where his wings would sprout if he let them.

Howon doesn’t answer.

He may trust Sungyeol more than anyone else up here but he doesn’t trust him with that. No one is trustworthy enough for it.

“It’s just, if they hadn’t you’d makes jokes about it - trying to pretend it didn’t bother you,” The pressure of Sungyeol’s fingers increase, just slightly. Howon shivers, “But that’s not it. you just don’t talk about them. Why?”

“Do you really expect an answer,” Howon asks, when it becomes clear Sungyeol is going to wait him out for a response.

“No,” Howon can’t see him, but he’s sure Sungyeol is shaking his head.

“You’re ashamed of them, aren’t you?” Sungyeol asks.

Howon stiffens. He’s not ashamed. It’s more than that. It’s less than that.

It is what it is.

“Sorry,” Sungyeol says, not sounding particularly sorry. He presses a kiss to Howon’s shoulder blade, “But they can’t be worse than Woohyun’s?” It’s a joke, an offer to move on.

Howon doesn’t respond. Sungyeol takes the hint and drops it.

Howon get’s the feeling there’s something Sungyeol doesn’t say.

He’ll eventually learn there’s a lot Sungyeol doesn’t say.

 

 

 

Dongwoo grows more troubled.

It’s not hard to see the way it takes more to get him to smile, the way he gets caught up in his head staring into space. Howon thinks someone should reach out to him, check in with him.

That someone shouldn’t be him. He’s not _good_ at it.

And yet one day, when it’s just the two of them, Dongwoo talks.

“Sunggyu and the others, the council,” he confesses. Sungyeol is off with Woohyun trying to see who can find the oldest person in the afterlife, a stupid game they play often. Howon doesn’t see the point of it, “They’re troubled by recent events.”

“By the number of fallen?” Howon whispers quietly, even though his volume makes no difference. He knows there’s been an increase in the past few decades, though no one he knows by name.

“Yes,” Dongwoo nods, looking around as if to check for anyone who could overhear before he adds, “They think there’s one here.”

“A fallen? Here?” Howon asks, looking behind him as if expecting to see a fallen standing there (not that anyone knows what the fallen look like. Rumours say their wings have burned away, nothing but charred feathers and the spindly bones remaining).

“Maybe not a Fallen, but an agent of them. They think someone is encouraging people to fall, pushing them in the right direction from inside.” Dongwoo says biting his lip.

“How would that even work?” Howon asks, how would someone like that end up in any sort of afterlife. Whoever makes the decisions about where people go after death makes mistakes, Howon has the scar on his shoulder to prove it, but he doesn’t know how they could miss a connection to the devil.

“I think it’s probably more likely to be a chain reaction,” Howon says, reaching for Dongwoo’s hand. He doesn’t know anything of course but it makes sense, “Everything is a mirror of something else. Human beings mimic each others behaviour. We may be angels but we’re still humans.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Dongwoo says though his voice says the opposite.

 

 

 

Howon knows he’s dreaming. He has to be dreaming.

He’s in a room he’s never seen before in his life but he just knows this is where he lived when he was alive. This was his home.

It feels more right than anything has in the afterlife.

There’s a boy standing in front of him, one of the most stunning people Howon has ever seen.

“Sungjong,” he says without meaning to. He knows as soon as he says it though that’s who this is.

“Hi,” Sungjong smiles at him in a way that’s both bright and coy, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“Never,” Howon says adamantly with a shake of his head. He has of course, had forgotten his name for the first decade. It feels important though that he reassure this dream apparition that he hasn’t forgotten. Vitally important.

Sungjong smiles at him. It’s blinding.

“As long as you promise not to,” Sungjong says, stepping forward and pressing his lips to Howon’s.

Howon closes his eyes.

When he opens them he’s in the same room, the same room except he’s sitting on the couch.

He’s sitting on the couch with someone’s head pillowed in his lap and it’s not Sungjong.

It’s Sungyeol.

“You’re awfully clingy today,” Howon laughs, running his fingers through Sungyeol’s hair.

He’s dreaming, he can’t control the movement of his body. It moves itself without his consent.

“You’re imagining things,” Sungyeol sniffs haughtily, “Your thighs are just fat enough they make good pillows.”

Howon laughs again. Picks up a book. Continues stroking Sungyeol’s hair.

Time passes, hazy as it always does in a dream. Sungyeol sits up. Straddles his lap.

Howon places his hands on his waist and looks at him questioningly, “I feel,” Sungyeol says deadly seriously. Serious and soft in a way Howon has never seen Sungyeol before.

Never _would_ see Sungyeol. He’s sure of that.

“I feel like we don’t have much longer left together,” Sungyeol admits, looking at a spot on Howon’s shoulder, “And it scares me.”

“You’re scared?” Howon scoffs out with a laugh. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. He can’t stop the words. He can’t consciously do anything.

Sungyeol huffs and makes to scramble away from him. Howon grabs his wrist.

“I’m sorry, okay, but we’ll be fine. We have the rest of our lives,” Howon says, feeling the blush rise in his cheeks at how cheesy that is.

Sungyeol laughs, “Now who's being clingy?”

Howon tips him back onto the couch and then they’re play wrestling.

Sungyeol looks up at him, sober, “You know I love you, right?” he says, quietly.

“I know,” Howon agrees even though no he doesn’t not know and Sungyeol very much does not love him.

Howon wakes up.

 

 

 

Howon is less surprised than he should be to return ‘home’ from a shift to find Dongwoo curled up in the corner of his couch sleeping. There’s something playing on the television, something that must have been made some time after he died if the technology is anything to go by.

“Hey, Dongwoo,” Howon says, shaking his shoulder gently as he perches on the arm of the chair next to him.

Dongwoo shoots awake, staring at Howon blearily.

“What’s up?” Howon asks him, feeling overwhelming fond. Dongwoo was the first person Howon saw in this new life, he’s always going to feel especially fond of him.

“How do you know what the right thing is?” Dongwoo asks him, looking to the tv and not at his face.

Howon has no idea what this is about. It feels like an important moment.

“You mean the correct thing or do you me how do you that you’re doing the right thing?” Howon asks carefully. He’s sure it’s the second one but he’s asking to buy some time to formulate an answer.

“That you’re doing the right thing,” Dongwoo says.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me this,” Howon says, prodding gently. Dongwoo is a much better person than him, increasingly he’s starting to think he ended up here by mistake. Too much time spent with Sungyeol clearly.

“You’re the most honest person I know,” Dongwoo says. “Second most honest,” they both know he’s talking about Sungyeol, “But I don’t want to ask him about this.”

“I guess, you don’t know you’re doing the right thing. There’s no way to know,” Howon says. When he started here he thought there were codes, there were rules. That there would be an order up here. That there’s someone out there with a moral compass that’s perfect. The longer he’s here the more he realises everyone is just as blind as each other.

That no one person, or group of people should get to chose.

“I guess,” Howon says slowly, wanting to be honest. He owes Dongwoo that, “You’ve got to do what you feel is right. Trust your conscious because it knows you better than anyone else could.”

He’s not one for pretty words, philosophical talk. That’s Dongwoo’s place, Woohyun’s on a good day.

He owes it to Dongwoo to try.

And apparently it was worth the effort because Dongwoo straightens, looks like a weights been lifted of his shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispers, reaching out to clasp Howon’s hands in his with a blinding smile.

Howon can’t help but return it, breathing out a sigh.

He was successful, he thinks.

Mere days later, a blink of an eye for them, Dongwoo falls.

 

 

_After Sungyeol falls he’s called in front of a committee._

_Howon doesn’t know exactly who they are or what their jobs are, recognises none of them._

_He knows what they want though. It’s hard to miss with the way he spends months in front of them testifying. About Sungyeol, about Dongwoo, about other angels who’ve fallen he doesn’t even know._

_“We just want to know,” One of the angels, Boa is her name, says kindly. Her voice makes his skin crawl, “Why it is that you’re the common denominator here. You were one of the last people to talk to both the defectors,”_

_It’s two cases out of hundreds. Howon can't be the common denominator here. Sungyeol fell because Dongwoo fell. Howon still doesn’t know why Dongwoo fell._

_He answers all the questions, tries to bite his tongue, swallow down the dissent that Sungyeol has carved into him. Sungyeol carved himself out of Howon’s life - Howon can learn how to carve Sungyeol’s influence out of his being._

_Eventually, after a year he’s allowed to leave. He’s managed to convince them he’s not pushed anyone into falling (why would he want to be left alone here)._

_Howon gets home, finds a mugof his that Sungyeol has left on his coffee table. He picks it up and throws it across the room, trying to drown out the memory of Sungyeol’s voice as he’d teased Howon about it._

_He doesn’t know if it’s all angels that can’t cry despite their pressure behind their eyes or if it’s just him._

_If he’s just broken._

 

 

 

“Don’t say his name,” Woohyun demands of them the first time he sees them after it happens. He’s let himself into Sungyeol’s house where the two of them had been sitting. Sitting in awkward silence, so much to say but not sure where to start.

It’s been that way since he fell.

“Good afternoon to you to Woohyun,” Howon says dryly. He’s not sure if it is afternoon, there’s no need for day and night here. The speech patterns of life are hard to break though, especially when everyone clings to them.

Sungyeol straightens, fire burning in his eyes “You can’t erase him Woohyun, he existed. D-” Sungyeol starts to say.

“If you say his name you’ll meet his fate,” Woohyun cuts Sungyeol of desperately, “If you say the name of anyone whose fallen for 200 years after they fall you’ll fall.”

Sungyeol stops, his mouth clamping shut.

“That’s stupid,” Howon says. A lot of rules in this place are stupid. Everything in this place is nonsensical. That might just take the cake, “Sungyeol’s right we can’t just pretend he was never here. That he wasn’t important.”

“I’m not asking you too,” Woohyun says, looking so world weary. Woohyun was Dongwoo’s friend first, Woohyun misses him as much as they do. Howon has to remind himself of that, “I just need you to know.”

“They want us to though, right?” Sungyeol asks, crease between his brow growing in size, “If we can’t talk about him then we forget him. It’s like he never existed.”

“They’re trying to stop us following his lead. Like talking about him, or anyone that falls, is going to make us want to fall,” Howon explains. He knows that’s not the way it works, he knows that making a topic taboo only makes it more exciting to people, more tempting. It’s how they’re hardwired.

Clearly whoever set the rules here didn’t know. Or didn’t care.

Now more than ever Howon knows Dongwoo was right.

Everything is the same.

Everywhere sucks.

 

 

 

33 years after Dongwoo falls Sunggyu disappears.

 

No one knows if he chose to move on or if he fell. It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.

 

 

 

Sungyeol has always had some of the strangest ideas. Usually he’ successful in convincing Howon to follow along - Howon doesn’t know if it’s a character flaw of his or if it just makes it easier to pretend.

This time though as Sungyeol holds a knife out to Howon with an expectant look on his face Howon knows very well they’re on entirely different wavelength here.

“No,” Howon says steadfast.

“Come on, you know we can’t die,” Sungyeol says, trying to wheedle Howon into agreeing. This is the point Howon draws the line.

“You don’t know that.” Howon says. Of course they’ve been told that and logically you can’t die when you’re already dead.

Nothing about this place is particularly logical though. Maybe the action of killing someone won’t kill them but Howon’s sure there must be repercussions.

“Come on, I’m dead I can’t die again,” Sungyeol says oblivious to any consequences of his actions as always (Howon hopes he’s only oblivious).

“Sungyeol shut up,” Howon snaps, grabbing the knife out of Sungyeol’s had with no intention to use it“No.”

Sungyeol looks at him, as if confused Howon might for some reason object to stabbing him through the heart, “Why?”

“Because if something does happen to you then I’ll be left with only Woohyun for company and that will probably drive me mad,” Howon says dryly not sure if he wants Sungyeol to see through his words or not. Doesn’t know if he wants Sungyeol to know how much he relies on him

Sungyeol cocks his head, and blinks before he smiles, “I thought you were already well and truly mad,” he saysand let’s it go.

Howon’s not fooled.

The set of Sungyeol’s shoulders remains tight. He’s only been stalled not dissuaded.

 

 

 

_Howon is dreaming again._

_He knows he’s dreaming because Sungyeol is here, in his bed where he’s been so many times before. Where he’ll never be again._

_Howon is lying on his back this time, Sungyeol sprawled out next to him him, their legs tangled together. He doesn’t know why his subconscious keeps doing this to him (He knows all too well)._

_“I didn’t fall for him, you know,” Sungyeol confesses quietly staring at the ceiling, “For Dongwoo that is. I wanted to stay. I tried to hard to stay, for you, but Dongwoo just gave me the reminder. That I couldn’t do it.”_

_Howon doesn’t want to hear it because he knows it’s bullshit. Knows it’s something Sungyeol would never say or think (would never feel)._

_Howon smiles wryly, “What does it say about me that this is what I chose to dream,” he says to himself, not to Sungyeol because if he starts talking to his dream like it’s really here he’ll never want to wake up, “These stupid words that a real version of you would never ever consider.”_

_He doesn’t know what’s worse. The fact he clearly wanted to hear this or the fact even his subconscious knows he’s not worth staying for._

_“Oh, so he can hear me,” Sungyeol says in delight, leveraging himself so he’s leaning over Howon, “I kind of thought I was just talking to myself here you could have given a demon a sign.”_

_Howon doesn’t say anything._

_Dream Sungyeol sighs in disappointment._

_“I’m sorry,” eventually he says, reaching his hand towards Howon, “Just know that I,”_

_Howon wakes up._

 

 

 

It started after Dongwoo fell.

Sungyeol had never quite fit in this world. Too spontaneous, too strong willed. He’d made it work though. Done his job.

After Dongwoo falls, he starts to question.

Sungyeol has always questioned. Sungyeol is that kind of person, Howon is always half afraid that he’s going to be demoted or worse.

Howon had never wondered if you can be forced to fall because of dissent before now. Now it’s something he worries about every day.

There’s nothing he can do about it except cling harder to Sungyeol, watch him closer. Try and remind him that there is a place for Sungyeol here.

There has to be.

 

 

 

Sungyeol lies on Howon’s back and talks.

Howon knows he does it so Howon can’t see his face, even though they both know Howon could roll him off if he wanted to. Howon knows he finds it easier to talk this way though Sungyeol never says.

“Sometime I think we’ve all forgotten the difference between order and what’s right,” Sungyeol says. It sounds like it’s meant to be a casual comment but Howon can see through Sungyeol. Hear the weight behind his words.

Sungyeol’s decades of inner conflict

Howon rolls them over, till he’s pushing Sungyeol down in the mattress. Sungyeol stares up at him with wide eyes, “Please don’t,” Howon says. He begs. He pleads.

“Don’t you wonder,” Sungyeol asks him, eyes wide, lips pressed together.

“I don’t let myself,” Howon says. He refuses to think about it.

“If you did,” Sungyeol asks him. He looks the same as always, he looks like Sungyeol. He looks so much more, vulnerable. Familiar in a way that makes Howon’s insides ache.

“I would, say that sometimes it’s not about what’s right and wrong. Sometimes it’s about the better option, the option you can live with.”

He doesn’t know why people keep asking him these things. Why he seems like an expert it what makes someone good or pure.

He has no idea.

He hopes he can succeed here where he failed with Dongwoo. Find the right words to say to Sungyeol to keep him here.

(He can’t. He doesn’t).

 

 

 

Howon doesn’t see Sungyeol fall (isn’t sure he’d have been able to stay in that moment if he had).

He knows though, he feels it as soon as he does. Feels like something has fundamentally shifted in the world. In him.

He finishes his conversation and robotically goes home.

Notices there’s not a single trace of Sungyeol’s presence when he’d been scattered everywhere this morning. Already he’s being written out of existence.

Howon let’s his wings explode from his back, trashing everything they come into contact with. Ruining his home. It can be fixed, but fixing something that’s broken never leaves it exactly the same way it once was.

It doesn’t matter.

It’s already been ruined.

 

 

 

Howon, does really remember the years that follow. He goes on shift, he comes home. He spends more time sleeping than any of them could ever need to. He sees Woohyun sometimes, but not as often as he once did.

He can’t tell if Woohyun is avoiding him or he’s avoiding Woohyun.

It’s empty.

 

 

 

200 years and a day after Dongwoo falls, (75 years and 87 days after Sungyeol fell) Woohyun materialises beside Howon as he walks through what appears to be a pine forest.

“Do you know how he fell?” Woohyun asks him unceremoniously. He’s not talking about Dongwoo.

“I don’t care,” Howon says. He doesn’t care, though he can guess.

Woohyun in front of Howon, blocking his path, “Howon,” he says. Howon waits for him to finish the sentence. He doesn’t.

“He said Dongwoo’s name, didn’t he,” Howon sighs. Dongwoo’s name feels strange, sounds strange. It’s a name he hasn’t heard in 200 years though he’s thought about it daily.

It’s odd to think that saying it yesterday would have resulted in the end of his existence as he knows it. Today it’s just another combination of sounds.

Woohyun is surprised, it shows in his eyes, “How?”

“I knew him. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he just wasn’t content with the way things were run up here,” Howon says.

He didn’t know Sungyeol as well as he thought, he never expected Sungyeol to actually fall. He doesn’t know what it was that left Sungyeol feeling so discontent. All he know for sure is that Sungyeol never wanted to hurt anyone.

Never wanted to. But did.

 

 

 

It’s on a day when Howon’s rounds are in a dusty arid savannah that Howon first meets him. He’s wondering through the desert, thinking back with bitterness to that day in the meadow - knows now he had been so terribly right about landscapes reflecting moods (he hasn’t seen something living in years).

Someone calls his name.

Howon looks up to see a soft faced angel smiling at him familiarly. s

“Sorry do I know you?” Howon asks, as the boy approaches him, pretty faced and dimpled. He’s probably being rude right now. He doesn’t care

“I’m Myungsoo, I was friend with,” Myungsoo pauses awkwardly, it can only be one person, “You know,” he finishes. Unnecessarily.

“Oh,” Howon says. Suddenly he very much doesn’t want to be here. He wants to turn around and forget the last minute. He wants to latch onto Myungsoo and never let go. Woohyun is the only toher link he has left to Sungyeol but that’s complicated

“We’ve met before,” Myungsoo says looking at him strangely when Howon still doesn’t recognise him.

“I’m sorry, when?” Howon says shaking his head. This must be a test.

“Oh, his place,” Myungsoo says with a little nod of his head. He seems sweet. He seems like what an angel should be.

“If you were that good friends, why haven’t I seen you around,” Howon asks suspiciously.

“Oh, I’ve been assigned to Earth,” Myungsoo says as if it’s no big deal. It’s a big deal, only a handful of angels are assigned to Earth. To the land of the living. No one knows what they do. Howon doesn’t care.

Howon wonders where Sungyeol ever would have time to meet an earth Angel.

“Oh,” Howon says again. He’s not sure what to say to Myungsoo. He wants him to go. He wants him to stay.

He wants Sungyeol back.

 

 

 

“Why are you still here Howon?” Woohyun asks him one evening, appearing in his bedroom as Howon is drying his hair.

“Because even angels need to sleep sometimes Woohyun,” Howon bites back. He’s exhausted, down to his bones, but teasing Woohyun is one of his few pleasures in life that he’s never going to let go of.

Woohyun looks at him appraisingly, it’s unnerving. It’s not that Woohyun is shallow or lacks depth, it’s the fact he tries to hide it behind a flirtatious layer of grease. Howon doesn’t know why, he doesn’t care. What he does know is that when Woohyun is being serious it’s not good news. Last time he saw Woohyun this serious was shortly before Sungyeol fell.

“Why are you still doing this,” Woohyun says waving his hand around to gesture to the room but encapsulating so much more. He doesn’t say anything else, because there’s always someone listening, but he doesn’t need to.

Howon sighs, and drops the towel, “A dangerous question Woohyun.”

“An important one,” Woohyun counters straight back.

“I’m here because I committed Woohyun,” Howon explains with sigh. There’s so much more he could say but he doesn’t know how. Doesn’t know why. Just knows somehow, despite the fact he doesn’t remember, that he’s never been one to quit something in his life. Once he’s made a promise or a commitment he will follow it through. No matter what.

Even if he could put it into words he’s not sure he’d tell Woohyun. He’s not sure he trusts Woohyun despite everything. Despite the fact he’s the only one left who gets it.

“Not because you believe,” Woohyun asks softly. Howon looks up at him sharply; that’s an even more dangerous question.

“It doesn’t matter whether I believe because I’m living it whether I do or don’t,” Howon says, eventually after the silence drags.

He’s not sure that makes sense. He’s not sure the last time anything made sense.

Before Sungyeol fell. Before Dongwoo. Before he remembered.

Or maybe it was before he died.

Maybe this afterlife is a punishment after all.

 

 

 

“It’s stupid, isn’t it,” Howon asks Myungsoo. Since their first encounter he’s seen the earth angel a handful of times. He’s a soothing presence but so other.

“What is?” Myungsoo looks at him. They’re standing in a garden this time, a beautifully alive garden that Myungsoo apparently likes to garden in. He’s the cliche angel the living imagine.

“Ever since he fell, I’ve been, you know,” Howon says. He feels more comfortable talking to Myungsoo. He doesn’t know why, maybe because Woohyun is Woohyun. Maybe because they have history and pretences and Woohyun works so hard to hide himself that Howon feels uncomfortable not doing the same.

He’s not going to bare everything to Woohyun when Woohyun won’t bare a single thing to him.

“That’s not stupid,” Myungsoo says adamantly. As if Howon is someone he’s known a long time and he has utmost confidence in him.

“I defined my existence, my afterlife, whatever you want to call it around him so much I can’t function without him,” Howon says. Says the words he’s been thinking this whole time.

He’s pathetic.

“I think, you’re doing a pretty good job of functioning,” Myungsoo tells him primly. Those words feel heavier than empty platitudes.

Myungsoo probably just has that effect on people.

“Existing. Not functioning. If I was alive I’d say existing not living,” Howon says with a wry laugh, sitting down next to Myungsoo in the dirt.

“I think maybe you’re looking at it the wrong way,” Myungsoo tells him after a long pause as if he’s taken time to really consider it, “Maybe, try looking at it from a different angle.”

Howon doesn’t ask him what he means by that, Myungsoo doesn’t offer an answer.

Instead he sits and watches as Myungsoo prunes the roses.

What other angle could there possibly be?

 

 

 

_The last time Dream Sungyeol visits Howon he’s no longer relaxed and playful. He’s frantic._

_“Howon,” he pleads, sitting on his heels grasping at Howon’s hands, “Please.”_

_It’s the first time Howon hasn’t dreamed a visit in his bed. He wonders what that means, if anything._

_Maybe it’s the change, maybe it’s his conversation with Myungsoo but for the first time he addresses the dream version of Sungyeol, “What do you want from me?”_

_“Howon, I need you to remember,” Sungyeol says squeezing his hands tighter. How a figment of his imagination could have such a strong grip he doesn’t understand._

_“Remember what?” Howon asks. Howon does nothing but remember. Maybe it’s time Howon tried to forget._

_He doesn’t say it out loud but he doesn’t have to because Sungyeol is part of his brain, a projection of his subconscious._

_It gets more obvious every time as Sungyeol gets clingier, more desperate. Less Sungyeol. Howon’s memory of him is slipping._

_“No please Howon, don’t forget,” Sungyeol says lunging forward and upwards desperately, wrapping his arms around Howon’s shoulders, “Remember your promise.”_

_“My promise?” Howon asks, looking at dream Sungyeol._

_“Your promise,” The dream says, smashing their lips together violently. It’s a kiss recking of despair, of resignation. Howon doesn’t know what that means._

_“Please Howon,” Then dream Sungyeol disappears, once again._

_Something about it feels final._

_Howon doesn’t remember waking up._

 

 

 

Howon doesn’t remember.

And then Howon does remember

 

 

 

“You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do Howon,” Woohyun tells him. He looks sad. He looks honest. Howon gets the feeling he’s finally being shown Woohyun.

“I don’t know what I’ve got to do,” Howon confesses staring at his hands. He knows what he wants to do. He knows what he should do.

He doesn't’ know which one of those constitutes what he’s got to do.

“Remember why you’re here,” Woohyun says, dropping a heavy hand on his shoulder, “What you did.”

Then he’s gone.

 

 

 

“Good luck,” Myungsoo winks at him the next time they see each other.

Howon doesn’t know what he means

 

 

 

It reaches a peak at the inevitable point.

Howon knows what he’s got to do. He always has. He doesn’t know why he put it off this wrong, he’s a coward.

He wasn’t ready to face them again.

Now though, now he has no other option.

He stands on the edge of the cliff.Lets his wings unfurl from his shoulders for the first time since they manifested, a dark inky blue spreading from his shoulders. Streaks of white painting them like lightning.

He’s not breaking a commitment he realises. He’s just honouring one that’s more important.

It’s 199 years and 364 days after Sungyeol fell that Howon says his name.

 

  

 

 _Tonight you and I_  
_Will fall from the sky_  
_Drag me all the way to hell_  
_'Cause I'm never gonna let it go  
_ _Never gonna let it go_ ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1NU-YkY3dk))

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up an entirely different story than what I intended - all the subtext I didn't get time to write in changes everything completely - maybe it came across in places and I wasn't as obtuse as I thought I was on re-read but I definitely didn't get to cover everything I wanted (believe it or not Sungjong's role is actually really important - it just sort of got cut down so much because i ran out of time and it was the least removed from the main plot).
> 
> IDK I don't hate it but I'm not sure I really got where I was intending to go with this story and I'll be surprised if this is anyone's cup of tea xD
> 
> Maybe I'll write a sequel/companion story to explain it all out, maybe I won't or maybe it was actually really obvious. Who knows. As always feel free to come ask me question on [tumblr](http://infiniteleverage.tumblr.com/) xD or whatever :).


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